


I'm A Mess Right Now (Inside Out)

by ZarryFTZouis



Series: Chrissy's Oneshots [46]
Category: One Direction (Band), The Vamps (UK Band), Union J (Band)
Genre: (TWO RARE PAIRINGS IN ONE HELL YEAH), Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, Gay Sex, Kitchen Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Morning Sex, Multi, Rare Pairings, Riding, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, slight daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 01:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2409983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZarryFTZouis/pseuds/ZarryFTZouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George and Brad have been dating for a while.</p><p>Cue Harry as a jealous ex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm A Mess Right Now (Inside Out)

**Author's Note:**

> Funny story. I was walking home from my college and this threeway ship just popped into my head.

“Well, it’s the end of our tour, Georgiiiieeee!”

George really hasn’t a clue why he has a boyfriend who has the cutest puppy-dog face in the entire planet. Right now, they’re sat in the hotel room in Nottingham or someplace like that and oh well, there goes George’s self–control.

“Fine, but you’re the underage here.” George warns his boyfriend of – he thinks – three months. “But we’re there for only couple hours.”

“Love you!” Brad giggles as George dips his head down for a peck on his younger boyfriend’s lips. “Now let’s go!”

-

“Georgiiiieeee!”

George was expecting this, really. Brad is one of those drunks who get really clingy. He himself had maybe three shots of lime vodka and Brad is plastered. And it’s only been an hour and half.

“Georgie-Porge,” George can hear the pout. “I thought you were never going to leave me!”

“You and your dramatics,” George sighs, grabbing his boyfriend about his thighs and carrying him bridal style to the nearest table. “Really, are you pissed?”

“I thought I – _hic!_ – saw Harry Styles!”

No way, George can’t be that unlucky.

“You’re ridiculous, One Direction are on their Australia-Asia tour for Midnight Memories,” George wants to believe that lie himself. “He can’t be in England.”

“ _Au contraire_ ,” George can recognise that deep baritone anywhere in the world, drinks or no drinks. “I’m capable of being anywhere. Your boyfriend is cute but _curls?_ ”

“Uh–oh,” Brad frowns before he heaves, thankfully throwing up onto the floor, not George’s favourite pair of TOMS. “Fuck, how much did I drink?”

“I’ve been watching you,” Harry continues like Brad isn’t there. The poor teen is busy regurgitating. “I went to your Wembley concert by myself. Some girls tried to sneak into my hotel room but you know by now that I’m into cocks and arses.”

“You were too deep inside Niall to say anything to me, really. You never had the balls to ask me out so we were nothing but fuck buddies,” George growls out, not looking at Harry as he kneels by Brad – away from the puked up mushies – and pulls the poor lad back up to his feet. “I’ve nothing to say to you.”

“You loved me, that’s the last thing you told me that night,” Harry insists, now–cognitive Brad scowling at the Cheshire native. “You said you’d wait for me.”

“And I didn’t,” George replies in the coldest tone he can muster, wrapping a possessive arms around Brad’s waist. The boy is really tiny, only five-seven like a boy who never had a proper growth spurt. “Good-bye, Harry.”

“You’re not done with me!”

It was too quick for George to figure out what the curly haired bastard was going to do. Really, all George does is bite at Harry’s lower lip the moment their lips meet, drawing blood. The copper taste is foul on George’s tongue, and he isn’t the only one mad about this arrangement.

“DID YOU JUST FUCKING KISS MY BOYFRIEND IN FRONT OF ME?” Brad literally launches his entire body at Harry, knocking him onto the floor with the momentum. Harry doesn’t do anything to defend himself when Brad holds onto his collar and makes him look up. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I used to look up to you!”

“Hm, I bet that arse is very tight, Bradley,” Harry laughs, he fucking has the audacity to laugh at the situation. George notes that they’re drawing a crowd. “I had my share of pretty arses to shag but damn, yours look the tightest.”

“Please tell me this is a nightmare where Harry is as insatiable as an incubus,” George sighs out loud, dragging Brad off of his ex-whatever and silencing him with a kiss. “I’m going back and Brad, don’t expect me to be in bed with you.”

“I can be anywhere I’d like!” Harry shouts at George and Brad’s backs.

Oh, how true that is.

-

“Fuck, remind me to get you jealous more,” George chuckles at the current situation. “You get super–possessive.”

“Did I say you could speak?”

George finds it amusing how the submissive of his boyfriend found the handcuffs just conveniently hanging around in George luggage and now he’s cuffed to the bedpost. He’s starkers and Brad has yet to get rid of his own checkered boxers. There’s so much rage built inside of Brad’s chocolate brown eyes, hiding his arousal. Really, the tented boxers are a dead giveaway.

“Nope, but I’m usually the one in charge,” George sticks his tongue out, tugging at his wrists. Damn, these are the ones that need a key to get out of. “If you’re planning on riding me with the cock ring–”

“Which is here,” Brad spins the tiny silver restraint on his forefinger. “You may continue with your babble.”

“–Otherwise considered sexy, you fucking sub,” George says in the sweetest voice he could muster. “Fucking hell, you look so sexy without all those clothes on. Turn it down, turn it down.”

“Did you just quote Rihanna?” Brad’s eyes narrow to the point of being nothing but slits. “Christ, you just did.”

“She’s every man’s crush at one point,” George shrugs, tugging at his restraints again. “Gonna ride me until we’re both spent?”

“I’m gonna fuck your mouth so hard you can’t even think,” Brad growls, his pants pooling around his ankles; he kicks them off in one swift motion. George looks up at his ‘captor’, memorising the perfection that is his boyfriend’s boyish charms. He looks fifteen. “And then, I’ll put the cock ring on your prick so you can’t come when I ride your thick dick.”

“I know you’re a songwriter but please, save the rhyme to the minimum,” George likes riling his boyfriend up if that means rough, passionate lovemaking session. “Please?”

“I’ll take that under consideration,” Brad sighs, placing his cock at George’s watering (not just from the naked sight of Brad) mouth. He opens up and kitten–licks at the tip. “Fuck, you got a mouth on you.”

“That’s not what you said last night,” George replies, dragging his tongue to the thick vein on the underside of his kid boyfriend’s cock. He suppresses a shudder that goes down his spine when Brad tugs at his hair. It’s a huge kink for the older lad. “I believe your words were ‘God, you have such stamina.’”

“I don’t recall telling you you’ve got the ability to speak back, babe,” Brad hisses out, thrusting his hard-on against George’s cherry-tinted lips. “I will shut you up.”

As per predicted, Brad grabs at George’s jaw and forces it open, then slides his massive one inside. George had practice to null his gag reflex so when the tip hits the back of his throat, he just moans around his erotic mouthful. Brad grunts – an all-guy move – and seems to have momentarily forgotten he was in control. The Bristol-native bobs his head up and down, getting his ‘punishment’ nice and wet. Brad curses under his breath, his hips stuttering forward. George smirks and impales his mouth on the delicious prick completely, gagging a bit. The movement must have made his throat convulse, resulting in Brad fucking his mouth with the little reminder. George relaxes his throat even more, about half an inch of Brad’s head dislodged inside his oesophagus. (He doesn’t do Biology well so it could well have been some other body part.)

“Now, now,” Brad coos as if he has complete control over everything; he doesn’t. “Be a good boy and let me fuck your mouth all proper.”

George nods, his eyes watering as he looks into the depths of dark brown pools of his boyfriend’s eyes. Brad gets a light grip on his neck and squeezes a little, making George gag again. He hasn’t any time to recovers, no, not with Brad slamming the tip into his strained throat. It doesn’t take more than two more minutes of throat-fucking for Brad to release into the very abused tissue.

“Pah!” George splutters once his mouthful is removed, some of Brad’s spunk dribbling down his chin. “Was that necessary?”

“Very,” Brad giggles, crashing their lips together in a mashed frenzy. George finds himself giggling because no matter what Brad does, he will always be George’s little Yorkshire terrier.

“I know you love me, and you know I love you,” George pulls away from the light kiss, just to peck at Brad’s nose. “Now, let me out of these stupid cuffs so I can show you what I’m meaning.”

“You just quoted One Direction,” Brad scrunches his nose up in a cute puppy-like way. “I don’t want to make love anymore.”

“They _are_ the biggest boyband in the world,” George shrugs, his face indifferent. He has to lean forward a lot just to plant a kiss to his loving boyfriend’s neck. “Now, let me show you how I love you.”

Brad takes his lower lip between his teeth and just stares down at him before shuffling around. When he’s finished, his nice, firm arse is against the tip of his erection, thrumming. Brad has the guts to rub the crack of his bum against George’s entirety, making him grunt from pleasure.

“You’d like that, won’t you, pretty boy?” Brad accentuates his words with another rub. “Fuck me as I ride you, hm? Make your body scream out in ecstasy?”

“Ungh,” George manages to say, his dick hardening even more. “Please…”

“Please what? Do this?” Brad grabs the base of George’s raging hard-on and eases the head inside of himself. His dick may have twitched at that. “Or this?” He moans as he makes himself full of George’s prick, both of them sighing from pleasurable fullness and tightness. “God, you’ve a massive one.”

George has the decency to blush at that comment. He isn’t small, he knows that, but he didn’t get any surgery to grow his dick either. He thinks of himself as average.

“Fuck, right there, ngh,” Brad groans, his thigh tendons sticking out as he grinds his hips in a figure 8. “Don’t have to do anything for your cock to find my prostate, do you? Fuck.”

George snaps his hips up, aiming for that sensitive bundle of nerves inside his boyfriend; he lets out a delectable moan in response. George lets his boyfriend ride him with wild abandon, his fluffy fringe hiding half his eyes, which looks oddly hot. Without the bandanna to hold his hair up, Brad’s hair literally gets in his vision. George reaches out with his hand to brush the hair away only to be reminded his hands are cuffed. Brad lets out – by far – the loudest yell of George’s name as he comes again, painting the former’s chest with the milky substance. He slides out and positions his small mouth at George’s still-hard dick and sucks him to perfection. He – George – just grunts as he gushes down Brad’s throat.

“My, my, what a big dick you hide, monkey,” Brad giggles as he uncuffs George. “Pretty eyes too.”

“Just cuddle me, you moron,” is all George can manage to say before drifting off to sleep. He thinks he hears ‘I love you too, you idiot’ before subconscious takes over.

-

“Ah, my back!”

George rolls his eyes at the familiar complaint. It’s been three months, he sort of knows this already.

“Morning, Yorkie,” George opens his eyes and presses a soft kiss to Brad’s forehead. “Anything I should be aware of?”

“My arse and back are killing me,” Brad huffs, his arms crossed, looking more annoyed than mad. “Oh, and we’re out of bananas.”

“You did _not just_ say that!”

Brad laughs at George’s silliness. George isn’t exaggerating but he _dies_ when he can’t have his usual banana in the morning. He’s addicted to the fruit.

“We have one left, one _single_ fruit, not a bundle,” Brad pokes his tongue out. George frowns some more. “And I think we’re out of banana nut muffins too.”

“Just kill me,” George flails on the bed. “I can’t live without my babies.”

“I’m hurt,” Brad huffs out, getting out of bed. Well, he slides out. “I’m taking you out to Fleure’s.”

“But that, like, ten minutes of walk from here!” George protests as his ankles are being pulled. Heck, he’s only donned in his trackies too. “Let go of me, you blubbering bumblebee.”

“Points for the creativity,” Brad muses, rearranging so that he’s carrying the six-foot tall boy in his arms. “Negative for the insult.”

“Where are we even going?” George peeks one eye open, now in Brad’s sleek silver Spyder. “Hey, when did you get this car again?”

“It’s George-proof,” Brad huffs, igniting the car to start. The hums of the engine makes George worry a tad bit so he sits up, buckling himself up. “We haven’t been to Fleur’s in forever.”

“Which is exactly why, little monkey,” George may have snorted his lungs out. “C’mon, it’ll be just like the first time.”

“You remember our first date right after the tour was over?” George cocks his head to the side, impressed by his boyfriend. “Our tour ended in May…”

“It’s mid-September now.” Brad quips in.

“And our first official date was on June 25th,” George continues just as Brad parks his car in the car park. “About a month before my birthday.”

“Go on,” Brad unlocks the doors; George gets out, followed by his gorgeous boyfriend.

“We kissed after sharing a banana-chocolate milkshake,” George is proper beaming at absolutely nothing now. “You tasted like innocence and happiness.”

“My poet,” Brad stands on his tiptoes to peck at George’s lips. They meet halfway. “And I had our reservations at nine.” He adds to the pretty server with grey-green eyes with golden flecks.

“Did you just stare at that chit for more than five seconds?” George rolls his eyes at the pointless jealousy in the words. “How dare you, when you’re on a date with me.”

“It was just under five-second mark,” George defends himself, hiding his smile with the menu. Huh, he suddenly is in crave of Hollandaise omelette with bacons and onions. “Is my wittle Bradley jealwous?”

“Say it like that again and I’ll impose sex ban on you,” Brad replies with too-sweet tone, making George gag. “Good boy.”

George makes monkey noises until the server returns to take orders. George gives his of the Hollandaise omelette and Brad orders pancakes with strawberries. They decide to split a banana-chocolate milkshake again.

About twenty minutes in the date, there’re people clamouring about. George tries to ignore that and shoves a forkful of his omelette inside his mouth. Brad giggles and reaches over to wipe a drop of sauce from his mouth, then proceeds into feeding him a square-bit of his pancake.

“OH MY GOD, HARRY STYLES AND ZAYN MALIK ARE HERE!”

“Fuck.” George says colourfully, his fork clattering on his plate.

“Wanna go out–”

“George Shelley,” Zayn grits out, apparently having an excellent hearing range. “What a surprise to see you here, babe.”

“I will kill you,” Brad warns, his eyes bristling with rage. “I don’t like you or your boyfriend.”

“If that’s what you believe,” Harry grins, his emerald eyes glowing with mischief. “Good seeing you here, Georgie.”

“I will kill you,” George repeats what his boyfriend said, a twinge of fury stirred inside his otherwise peaceful heart. “Do you stalk me?”

“Sometimes, Fate has her own way,” Harry shrugs, seating himself right by the other couple. “I love seeing you mottling with hatred, it’s healthy to let your emotions out.”

-

“What’s the fucking deal with him?” Brad grits out as soon as they’re in the comforts of his Spyder. “Does he really think he owns the world?”

“Technically,” George knows Brad isn’t in the condition to drive so he takes the wheels, strapping his cute, angry ball of a boyfriend in. “I don’t know why he kissed me when he’s a boyfriend.”

“Maybe Zayn is a decoy,” Brad seethes, his eyes hard and trained into the restaurant. “Can you blame him though? You’ve got the best hair in the world.”

“That’s not what you said last night,” George giggles, steering into the streets. It takes about three minutes of drive to get back to their flat. “You said I’m a sexy beast.”

“Definitely not what I said,” Brad refutes, but laces their fingers together anyways. “I said I love you.”

“And I love you too,” George replies with all his heart behind his words. “I can’t get sick of you yet.”

“Hush, you sappy lover,” Brad blushes, leading George into their living room. “I think you’re too sappy for me.”

“You love me for that.”

“True,” George grins, tucking his legs under him on the sofa. Brad rests his fluffy head on George’s lap, his hands still interlocked with George’s. “All you gotta say is that you love me and that’s all that matters.”

“I thought you were gonna say ‘name’,” Brad giggles, his nose scrunching up in an adorable way. “Do you think we can watch shitty rom-coms and call it a day?”

“Our love is a shitty rom-com,” George replies, dipping his head down to peck his boyfriend’s lips. “We met at a concert, we fell in love, and now we’re in honeymoon stage.”

“Sappy,” Brad comments, earning another peck on his lips. “I believe I may have rubbed off of your gorgeous body.”

“You rub your arse against my dick anytime, and I’ll be so hard,” George replies, his eyes darkening. “But alas, we’re cuddling.”

“You make it sound any less unsexual,” Brad huffs out, scooting up so that they’re face-to-face. “Right now, I could blow you against this sofa… make you scream my name as you come down my throat.”

“Already done,” George sticks his tongue out. “That was the day we moved in together about three weeks ago.”

“You and your freaskishly good memories,” Brad huffs out again, this time nuzzling at George’s – sadly – covered dick. “Do you want a hand in that?”

“I want your hand on my body,” George deadpans, coursing his fingers through the fluffs that are called Brad’s hair. “Starting with your fingers on my lips.”

Brad doesn’t listen to George as always. Instead of _putting_ his fingers onto George’s cherry-lips, he _pushes_ them past the mounds, probing at George’s suddenly dry tongue. He wiggles them around, getting them wet for no apparent reason other than to torture George.

“Any problems?” Brad can feel the growing bulge, George is sure of that. “You seem to be… tight.”

“Just like your arse,” George rasps out, his eyes fluttering close from lack of concentration. “Are you quite done teasing me yet?”

“Nah, I’m just having fun,” Brad replies, his eyes twinkling like twin ambers. “I think I love my dominion over your body.”

“Only over my cock,” George feels like the block of air is stuck in his oesophagus. “Can you just..?”

“Not yet, babe,” Brad giggles, his fingers plopping from George’s mouth. It’s so slick, George muses to himself, and before he can take in what’s happening, George slides his hand down his jeans, right where the swell of his bum’s at. Making sure they still have eye-contact, Brad slips a finger inside of himself. He moans, free hand palming himself outside the denim. “Can almost feel your thick dick inside of me, unf.”

“Unfair,” George whines out as his boyfriend keeps fingering himself. It doesn’t take more than couple of minutes before George knocks Brad back, onto his back, and crashes their lips together. Brad moans into the kiss, making George even harder. George takes Brad’s fingers into his own mouth, tasting his boyfriend. “So salty and bitter,” George grouses, ripping the shorts off of Brad’s body. “So fuckable.”

“Skip the talk and romance,” Brad whispers against his cheek. “Just want to have this dance.”

“Tonight we live forever, as long as we’re together,” George presses their lips back together, lust mirrored in Brad’s chocolate brown eyes. “Damn, I just want to be somebody to you.”

“And you will be,” Brad rolls them over so that a denim-clad George is under him. “Wanna ride you.”

“Hold on, cowgirl,” George giggles before wiggling out of his accursed jeans. “I don’t think I’ve surprised you yet.”

“Don’t want that, just want your midnight kisses,” Brad gasps out, their bare erections rubbing with sweet friction. “C’mon, fuck my arse.”

“I’d much rather suck it,” George grins, rutting his hips up into his boyfriend’s. “Do you want me to?”

“You’ve rimmed me the second date we went to,” Brad has the decency to blush at the memory. “Right after we made love in the sofa.”

“We still have to get the cumstain out,” George giggles, just remembering he’s still wearing his shirt. He tosses the shirt beside the sofa. “Ew, we’re about to go at it on the cum-stained sofa!”

“Dramatics to the minimum please,” George nips at Brad’s neck at the comment. He loves marking his boyfriend’s neck with dark bluish red bruises. “Ah, right there!”

“You sound like I’m fucking you already,” George slides his hand down the younger’s flat chest, to where the start of his happy trail’s at. “Hm, I think you’ve got a really fit body.”

“You’re only saying that for a lay,” Brad huffs out, somehow making his curls bounce. “If we weren’t dating, you’d be saying that to someone else.”

“I’m very certain you’re the only one who holds the key to my heart, Mr. Simpson,” George pushes Brad’s head down for a kiss. They kiss for timeless amount, until their lips feel too sore to kiss any longer. “That and my soul, I suppose.”

“You’re poetic in a likeable way,” Brad shrugs, rubbing his arse crack along George’s length. “But I guess we can work that out later.”

“ _Fucking hell_ ,” George curses when the rim of Brad’s entrance catches onto his head. “Just lemme wreck ya, yeah.”

“Why don’t you just fall?” Brad teases, grasping the base of George’s shaft and easing it inside of himself. “Mm, you feel so right inside me.”

“Such a horny teenager,” George teases right back, his eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure that is Brad’s sinfully tight arse. “Ngh, can’t get enough of you.”

Brad grins in the boyish way George loves, rocking his hips against his own. George grabs onto Brad’s shoulders, anchoring himself before he starts to rock into Brad’s tight heat. The latter lolls his head to the side, letting George know he found the prostate at one-go. They love this, just making love like they haven’t the schedule of a busy popstar. George groans when Brad clenches his arse around his cock, making it harder for him to think straight. (Then again, he isn’t straight.) He loses what little control he has left and proper drive into the smaller, younger lad’s prostate, each movement resulting in a delicious, throaty moan from the said lad. It doesn’t require for George to jerk Brad off before they reach their high in unison, Brad sighing out his name.

“That was so hot,” Brad giggles, pressing their naked chests together. “I should just stay naked all the time when I’m around you. Let’s have movie dates often.”

George giggles at the adorableness that is Bradley William Simpson, stroking his fluffy curls as they fall asleep.

-

“You seem… a bit tense?” Brad kisses a path from George’s jawline to his neck. “Do you want me to fix that?”

“Mm, morning blowjob, just my perfect start of the day…” George grouses, his eyes fluttering open when he feels a wet heat against his already-bare morning wood. “Wait, I’m not even–”

George can’t finish the rest of the sentence, not when Brad smirks around his mouthful and goes down until his tiny, sort of cold nose-tip is prodded against his balls. George grabs whatever it is closest to him, which happens to be Brad’s really, really fluffy curls. There’s too much wetness surrounding his dick, making it fully hard. George whines out when Brad pulls away, only to lap at his tip like a kitten with a bowl of milk. George pushes Brad’s head down more, his entirety surrounded by wet heat again. He thrusts his hips up, resulting in delectable moans and whimpers from the petit boy. George spurts down Brad’s constricting tunnel, his fingers buried in the fluffy wilderness of Brad’s hair.

“Fuck,” Brad breathes out when George reaches for him and palms him through the boxers he put on. “You’re so good to me.” George smirks as he slides his hand inside and tosses Brad. The young boy releases all over his hand within couple minutes.

“Damn, I was going to skip the shower this morning,” George giggles when Brad crawls over to slant their lips together, the older of the two too lazy and sexed-out to do anything but breathe into his lips. “And I didn’t even brush my teeth!”

“Little monkey,” Brad chastises, pecking George’s lips one more time before pulling away. He doesn’t undo the grip on George’s torso though. “You’re so adorable like this.”

“Thank God someone thinks I look adorable right after I wake up!” Brad rolls his eyes at the dramatic tone. “You’re supposed to love me no matter what, Mr. Simpson.”

“I refuse to love your morning sass,” Brad pouts, a look George can’t say no to. “I’m gonna cuddle with Jess.”

“Nope, you aren’t cheating on me with your puppy,” George scowls, actually bothering to open his eyes. “You’re mine, Bradley.”

“If I’m yours as you’re mine, sure,” Brad closes his eyes, falling asleep almost instantly. George holds back the comment on how dorky his cute, practically underage boyfriend is.

Round two can wait a couple hours.

-

“WAKE UP, YOU LAZY SON OF A MONKEY!”

George groans, attempting to hit his alarm clock – aka his boyfriend – and fails. He feels some sort of wetness surrounding his fingers. He just groans again, burrowing deeper into the sheets.

“Fine, I’m taking your banana-chocolate muffins away.”

“No you aren’t,” George pouts, blindly giving a handjob to the nightstand to reach for his glasses. “You can’t take away my favourite breakfast food.”

“I thought my cock held that title,” George has the decency to blush. “Don’t deny it.”

“Muffin,” George mumbles, holding his hand out. Brad huffs and hands him one. “Mm, I love you, Yorkie.”

“You only say that ‘cos I got you your favourite muffin,” Brad puffs his cheeks out. George coos at the cuteness, then remembers his mouth is full of food. “Do you say you love me otherwise?”

“When you don’t do that Look thing, I – hey what are you doing?” George can literally feel his heart flutter when Brad gives him the puppy-dog face he just loves to death, giving him an appearance of a Yorkshire terrier again. “Bradley William Simpson, I might kiss you with my mouth full.”

“Huff,” Brad says it out loud, but drops his cute little face anyways. “I’ll be downstairs, washing the dishes I made just to cook this thing.”

George is half-awake to register what Brad was implying. Really, the banana-chocolate muffins are really great at distracting him. So when he trots downstairs, licking the chocolate sauce off of his fingers, he was _not_ expecting a naked Brad doing the dishes.

…

Okay, maybe a tiny part of him hoped that Brad would be doing the chore in nothing but his birthday suit but George chokes on air at the sight presented to him.

“I can smell the buttery banana on your, Monkey,” Brad giggles, putting the last bowl into the dishwasher. “Do you want me to say something, babe?”

“I want your mouth for other things,” George closes the distance between them and crashes his lips down, against Brad’s soft, plump ones. He growls playfully, nipping at the lower lip, which he knows that Brad loves. The younger lad just complies and parts his lips, his semi poking at George’s bare stomach. George lifts Brad onto the counter and starts kissing down to Brad’s jawline. He hears the satisfying ‘uh’ when his lips locate the soft spot just below the jawline, where the jaw meets his neck, and massages the spot with his lips. He traipses his hand down to his boyfriend’s flat stomach, hands running over the little trail of hair from the navel. He hears the breath catching again so he moves his hand down lower, in synch with his lips moving to Brad’s unmarked neck. George smirks against Brad’s neck as he thumbs at the leaking slit, making the younger shudder from pleasure. He moves the palm of his hand to the underside of Brad’s shaft, making him squirm. George kisses a trail down _lower_ , to Brad’s hardened nipples. George isn’t the type to suck on a man’s nipples but Brad is so _young_. So responsive. It doesn’t take long before George feels the sacs of Brad’s shaft tighten, so he just skips the talk and dives into sucking the latter off. He hears a litany of swear words when his throat graze the tip at one-go, a desired effect. Brad is too much of a sub to fuck George’s throat, he knows that. He’s like a pliant puppy playing in the first snowfall in his life so George just indulges. He takes Brad’s hand in his and brings it up to his hair, making him grab a handful. He bobs his head up and down for about three minutes before Brad moans out a fucked-out ‘George’ and gushes down his throat. George pulls away with a loud _pop!_ and giggles, nudging their noses together.

“ _Je t’adore,”_ George whispers just before their lips meet. Already, Brad is hardening, poking George’s thigh. “God, I can’t get enough of you yet.”

“We never had kitchen sex before,” Brad tries to hide his arousal desperately, the red colouring on his cheeks giving it away. “And you know how much I love trying new things.”

“Hm, what will I ever do with you, Yorkie?” George trails his hand down to Brad’s centre, stroking his boyfriend to full hardness. “Do you want me to make love to you against the kitchen counter?”

“That was sort of my plan,” Brad wiggles his eyebrows. “That and getting you out of that bed.”

“I feel so used,” George mumbles under his breath. “But I love you, so.”

“See? Only time you say that is when you’re given a banana-involved food or a snog session in the bed!” Brad huffs out, giving himself a nice puppy look.

“I do say I love you other times. Like, when you watched _The Avengers_ with me or _The Fault In Our Stars_ ,” George giggles, pressing their bodies even tighter. “Now hush and let me show you how much I love you.”

Brad gnaws on his lower lip before reaching over to one of the drawers and takes out a bottle of tropic-scented lube. George presses his urge to scoff at that. He applies general amount of lube to his fingers and prod at Brad’s puckered entrance. He pushes in just one, his forefinger, and smirks when the tip grazes against something _fleshy_. Brad knows it too, his pupils dilating even more. George decides to be playful and just pushes past that bump, adding his second finger to make it even worse. He pumps his fingers in and out of the smaller, super-cute boyfriend, occasionally rubbing at the said lad’s prostate. He only starts to scissor him when his adds the third and final digit in, humming a tune that’s akin to “Tonight (We Live Forever)”. Being the curly haired bastard he is, he takes his fingers out when he feels the unmistakable clenching of Brad’s arse.

“You evil little monkey!” Brad looks so desperate for a cock; George’s dick may have twitches at the debauched look. “See if I give you a morning blow and muffins _ever_ again!”

“Dramatic,” George rolls his eyes, slicking himself up. They know they haven’t really been with anyone else but each other so they’re clean. “Still want me to fuck your tight cunt?”

“Yes, _daddy,_ ” Brad mewls out, straddling his waist with his legs. “Fuck me hard, please.”

George can’t say no to Brad, that’s the thing. He rubs his throbbing head against Brad’s tight entrance before he pushes in, both moaning from the pleasurable tightness and fullness. George gets fully sheathed at once, making the younger mewl from the fact that his prostate is being stimulated. He goes further and wraps his hand around the leaking shaft, making Brad moan; George muffles that sound with his own lips, kissing in a frenzied rhythm. George has to thrust couple times before Brad comes in spurts onto his stomach, probably due to over-stimulation. He doesn’t mind, no, and keeps fucking into his perfect boyfriend’s tight arse that’s clenching around his dick. Brad mewls as his shaft grows fully hard again, trapped between their bodies. George lets out a sigh of Brad’s name when they climax together.

“Definitely love this,” Brad giggles when George carries him to their bedroom, for post-sex cuddle ritual. “I love you, Monkey Boy.”

“I love you more, Yorkie.”

-

“You’re stalking me.”

George can’t believe the second time he goes out clubbing with his boyfriend, Harry fucking Styles is there again. At least this time, Brad is somewhat sober and George hadn’t any drinks either.

“Call it a fate,” Harry replies cheekily, his hand reaching out to brush his thumb over George’s reddening cheekbone. “I know you still love me.”

“Are you more pissed than I thought?” George replies coldly, wrapping his arms around Brad’s waist and drawing him closer. He dips his head down for a totally unnecessary sloppy kiss to his lips. “Go the fuck away, Styles.”

“He’s Harry,” Brad giggles and George really hates how much of a lightweight his boyfriend is. “Why is Harry Styles here?”

“Because I want to fuck your tight ass,” Harry replies smoothly, his eyes glinting like twin jade stones in the dim lights. “I know George has a thing for that.”

“George does not,” George doesn’t know why he spoke in third person. “I mean, just because I walked into you fucking that Irish cunt when we were supposed to be together doesn’t mean I’m into voyeurism.”

“Denial,” Harry grins his infamous Cheshire cat grin. “C’mon, I’ll buy you some drinks.”

‘Some’ drinks in Harry’s vocabulary needs a work ‘cos about half-hour later, all three of them are wasted. Harry can’t stop giggling, and neither can Brad. George looks at his phone and checks that the both idiots have been giggling for five minutes just from the fact that George calls his boyfriend ‘Yorkie’.

“He does not,” Harry giggles, motioning at the bartender to hit them up with more lime vodka shots. George shoots the lad a warning look, which is ignored. “You do have a fluffy hair, Bradley.”

“Fluffiest you’ll ever feel!” Brad even thrusts his head into Harry’s palm. George feels his anger boiling. “Feel it!”

“Gotta admit it’s better than mine,” Harry hands a shot glass to George, giving him a look. George sighs and downs it. “Mine’s curly and smooth, not really fluffy.”

“George’s hair is so soft!” Brad giggles, like he just let out the world’s best-kept secret. “It’s really arousing to feel it against–”

“That’s enough,” the oldest of the trio physically drags the drunk and giggly boys to the room on the second floor of the bar. “How much had you?”

“Four?” Brad holds out all five fingers. “Harry is really kind to me.”

“He also kissed me last time we saw him,” George reminds his boyfriend, who flops onto the nearest bed. “Never mind.”

“I think we should do something,” Harry’s eyes flicker over to Brad. “Don’t you want to?”

“I’m more sober than you two idiots,” George growls out, forming a protective arch over Brad’s body with his own. “So go fuck Zayn, isn’t he your boyfriend?”

“You wish I was over you so quick like you were with me,” Harry points out. _Drunk thoughts are sober thoughts?_ “You found comforts from solitude when I broke your heart, in the softness and innocence of Bradley, your tour-mate. Soon, you found yourself falling for the kid and forgot about me. Everyone does.”

“You broke my heart,” George repeats, barely conscious of Brad listening to them. “You told me there’s no-one else like me yet you went to Niall’s suite and fucked him. I bloody saw you!”

“You never said we were exclusive!” Harry shouts at George. God, to have thought he hated Harry giggling every second! “You never asked me out properly!”

“Loud,” Brad mewls out, somehow free of his clothes other than the teddy bear boxers George got for him for his birthday. “Can we argue later and fuck now?”

Two heads snap in direction of Brad’s practically naked form, one pair of dark teal and other of chocolate brown.

“Um…” George dips his head down to kiss the words away from his boyfriend’s mouth. He only wanted to keep in light and soft but Brad is still a teenager, meaning he has raging hormones. He growls when Brad flips them over, grinding down to make him as hard as the younger lad. They forget Harry is watching them as they undress each other, with Brad’s hole poised over George’s bubbling head within seconds. “Wait, _Harry._ ”

Brad jerks his head up, like he just realised this. Harry just regards them indifferently, his shirt already off and his jeans unbuttoned. To George, it looks like the curly haired devil was about to wank to him and Brad making love.

“Join us,” Brad giggles, rubbing his hole against George’s tip again. “I know you want to.”

Harry doesn’t reply with words; he steps closer to them until he’s only an arm’s length away from them. George nods his head yes just as Brad sinks down on his shaft, making him groan from the sinful tightness. Harry places his pre-cum beaded slit to Brad’s lips and the youngest of the three just engulfs the entirety of it in his mouth. Harry moans and bucks his hips forward, dislodging his dick further into the wet heat. Brad is too full to move so George grabs his boyfriend’s hips and fucks up into him, loving the small noises he’s making. They range from whimpers to full-blown pornstar moans, making Harry fuck Brad’s mouth harder.

“Come for me, little Yorkie,” George coos, angling his thrusts against the abused and sore prostate of Brad. “I know you’re holding it off.”

Brad shudders from the force of his climax, the clenching around George’s dick making him come as well. Harry grunts before he moans out Brad’s name, a drop of his release sliding down Brad’s lips. Harry pulls out and George giggles before he presses Brad’s head down and kiss him hard, tasting Harry’s aftertaste.

Consequences be damned, the morning is too far away.

 


End file.
